Cops and Robbers
by Rivendell101
Summary: Lucy wakes up to the sound of running water, a blinding light, and a crick in her neck that tells her she had a really rough night. Though, she probably could have deduced that without the pain, considering she's pretty sure she fell asleep in a bathtub last night, according to her slightly hazy memory. (Rated for language and inappropriate thoughts by Lucy)


**Cops and Robbers**

* * *

Lucy wakes up to the sound of running water, a blinding light, and a crick in her neck that tells her she had a really rough night. Though, she probably could have deduced that without the pain, considering she's pretty sure she fell asleep in a bathtub last night, according to her slightly hazy memory. She can vaguely recall stumbling into the bathroom and tripping over a hockey stick that _should not have been there_ before crawling into the tub and passing out. Honestly, that's not the strangest place she's fallen asleep while drunk. At least she made it into the apartment this time. That's an improvement.

The toilet flushes suddenly and Lucy groans, trying to roll over, only to find herself stuck in place, one cheek pressed against the bottom of the tub, which is kind of gross because she's not sure when she last cleaned it, and one leg tossed over the porcelain rim, causing her to take notice of the pain in the back of her knee. Huffing to herself, Lucy mentally curses Cana for making her go out drinking last night. All Lucy wanted to do was stay home and watch reruns of shitty sitcoms, but than Cana had to drag her out to a stupid frat party.

"It'll be fun!" she said. "You'll have a good time!" she said. Yeah, well Lucy's not having a good time. She's hung-over, her back hurts like a bitch from her stupid ass being curled up in a cramped bathtub, and everything smells like a horrific mixture of tequila, Lysol, and aftershave. Which, what the fuck? She's pretty sure the tequila is her—and who the fuck knows, maybe the Lysol was too, but what kind of freak did Cana bring home that carries around aftershave with him? Who the hell does that? What kind of _frat boy_ does that? Fuck, Loke is the most fucking pompous frat boy that Lucy has ever met and even _he_ doesn't do that.

Yeah, Cana must have picked a real winner last night.

Shit, why can't she remember what happened last night? Well, clearly she remembers climbing into a bathtub and she sort of remembers being locked out of the apartment because her key wasn't working—though she might have just been holding it backwards, because drunk her isn't very coordinated—and Cana wouldn't let her in because she's a drunk bitch and a horrible roommate but Lucy still loves her, she really does, and maybe she kind of climbed up the fire escape and used a pin to jiggle open the lock. Maybe. She can't really remember all that well.

This is all Cana's fault. She had to leave the party to go make out with what's his face I-carry-around-aftershave-because-I'm-a-narcissist and leave Lucy all by herself. Cana fucking promised not to do that again after the last time! How could Cana just forget about the time she had to bail her and Levy out of jail? Which was utter bullshit by the way, because Levy was the one stripping, not her. And really it was Cana's fault to begin with, because they both know Levy is a disaster when she's drunk and technically it was Cana's turn to babysit, but somehow she let Levy climb out the fire escape and go running off into the night like a bat out of hell!

Lucy's coming to the conclusion that Cana is very irresponsible.

Then again, Lucy's the one that just took a drunk nap in a bathtub.

The sink is turned on, startling Lucy out of her thoughts. For a moment she just lies there, peering at the scummy side of the tub in disgust. Yeah, she's definitely going to have to clean that later. Freaking nasty. Why did she think this was the best place to sleep again?

Finally, sighing heavily, Lucy shifts just the slightest, her spine making a satisfying crack as she moves in _just_ the right way. Dear god, that felt great. There's nothing like cracking your back in the morning to make everything better. Well, not being hung-over or in a bathtub would also make the day better. Honestly, things can't get any worse at this point.

Lucy manages to slip an elbow underneath herself after an awkward couple of seconds and presses up on her arms, trying her best to sit up and not look completely wasted. Frankly, she doesn't think that's possible. She smells like tequila and her makeup is probably smudged and _oh yeah_ _—she's in a bathtub_.

That's not usually something sober people do.

"Hey, Cana, can you maybe not be so loud, some of us are trying to—" she cuts off suddenly, eyebrows shooting up as she realizes that she's not, in fact, talking to her leggy, brunette friend. Nope, her roommate isn't standing there, it's just some half-naked, dripping wet dude standing there with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and staring back at her as if she has two heads.

Something's telling her she's not in Kansas anymore.

Lucy blinks at the man—who has clearly just gotten out of the shower, judging by the positively _glistening skin_ and the towel that's hanging _dangerously low_ on his hips. Which definitely isn't a problem, like, at all. Her eyes snap up to his after a moment of shameless staring, meeting shocked green eyes half-hidden behind messy, pink-dyed hair. Well, _hello, Sexy_.

Is it bad that she kind of wants to lick the water off his stomach? And that's totally the tequila talking. Kind of. Well, she hopes it is. That's not really something she should be thinking about the stranger that Cana slept with last night. Wait, is this even her apartment?

The sexy stranger clears his throat and removes the toothbrush from his mouth, making Lucy realize she's been staring for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Frankly, she deserves a pass on this one. She's definitely still hung-over and he woke her up. _And what a way to wake up_.

Aside from the neck pain and obvious awkwardness, this might just be the greatest wake up call she's ever had.

Tall, glistening, and wet simply stares as Lucy sits up just a little bit straighter, shifting uselessly to try to find a more comfortable position in what she realizes is probably not her bathtub. "Well," she starts slowly, eying him from head to toe—frankly, she doesn't get much further than the towel wrapped around his hips before her gaze snaps back up. But that's beside the point. "You're not my roommate," Lucy states blankly.

The stranger coughs slightly, running a hand through his hair nervously as he leans back against the counter behind him, toothbrush lying forgotten on the cheep surface that looks identical to the one in her own apartment. Well, at least she's in the right building. That's a good thing, right? "No, I don't think I am," he replies after several long seconds of silence, swallowing thickly.

Lucy nods slowly, glancing at her bare toes and frowning. Where the hell did her shoes go? She could have sworn she had them when she was attempting to climb the fire escape—assuming that actually happened and isn't just a fabrication made by her hazy memory. Dammit, she likes those shoes too. Bummer.

"And this isn't my bathtub," Lucy mumbles, finger tapping against the scummy side of the tub. That would also explain why the tub is so dirty. She would never let it get this bad.

The guy crosses his arms, eyes narrowing just the slightest as he blinks back at her unsure what to do with his uninvited guest. Lucy doesn't blame him. Honestly, she would probably be screaming right now if she were him, all things considered. Luckily, it doesn't look like she's about to be clocked in the face for breaking and entering. At least, not yet. There's still time for him to process what's happening and react. "Unfortunately," the guy says slowly, chewing his lower lip, "it's the one that came with my apartment."

Yeah, she kind of figured that out a minute ago. Keep up, sexy wet stranger. Actually, he's kind of starting to dry at this point. Holy shit, did she sleep through someone using the shower? Moreover, did this guy actually not notice her sleeping in his bathtub until just now? She's heard of people being unobservant before, but this is ridiculous.

Lucy huffs, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "That would explain why my key wasn't working," she muses to herself. There's still the chance that she was just holding the key backwards, but she kind of doesn't want to think that's the case. Wrong apartment is definitely better than not knowing how to hold a key.

God, she hates drunk Lucy sometimes. Sober Lucy is so much smarter. Sober Lucy also doesn't break into stranger's houses.

Dye-job straightens slightly, eyes narrowing even further is that's possible, his lips pressed into a tight line. "How did you even get in here?" he questions, giving her a once over.

Yeah, he shouldn't do that. Right now she probably looks like she just rolled out of a dumpster. Or a _bathtub_. Haha, that's definitely not funny.

She swallows, trying to ignore the bitter taste in her mouth as she stares passed him, gaze locked on a bottle of mouthwash resting by his elbow. "I think I crawled through the window," she admits, squinting to read the label on the bottle. Why is the liquid red? Who makes red mouthwash, that's disgusting. "I'm not entirely sure," she tacks on after a beat, glancing up at him in time to watch his mouth drop open in shock.

He coughs, chocking slightly as he stares at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," he sputters, an utterly befuddled expression on his face, "you crawled through the window?" It sounds a lot more impressive when he says it. He'll probably be telling this story for a while. All of his friends will have to hear about the drunk college girl that climbed up a fire escape, broke in through his window, and fell asleep in his bathtub for the next three months, at least.

She elects to ignore his question. "What floor is this?" she asks, twisting so that her back makes the most satisfying crack she has ever heard. That's at least in the top five things that have happened this morning. Right below getting an eyeful of some very nice, very _wet_ abdominals, and just above scaling through a window without getting caught.

Damn, drunk Lucy is a total badass.

"Third," he tells her simply, apparently lost for words. Fuck, she thought this was the fourth floor. Ugh why are numbers so hard for drunk Lucy to understand? She was so damn close to the right floor! If she had just gone up another flight she would have woken up in her own bathtub and she could have been eating pancakes right now!

Lucy groans. Shit, and she probably looks like a raccoon right now. She has nothing against raccoons, but that is not a good look on her. And this is definitely not how she would have wanted to meet the cute guy downstairs, had she known earlier that there was a cute guy downstairs. Why didn't she know there was a cute guy downstairs?

She tunes back into reality just in time to see her apparent neighbor looking utterly embarrassed, a flush working its way across his cheeks and down his neck. Shit, did she say some of that out loud? God fucking dammit! "What?" she asks slowly, her tongue suddenly feeling thick and sticky in her mouth from all the alcohol last night. Right, she probably needs fluids.

She internally winces. Yeah, that sounded extremely inappropriate. But hey, if he offers…

He rubs the back of his head nervously, blush deepening. "I said, you look like a cute raccoon," he tells her honestly, avoiding her eyes.

Lucy's eyebrows shoot up, her mouth dropping open slightly as she gapes at him, completely taken aback, though not necessarily in a bad way. She reclines slightly, elbows slipping against the bottom of the tub. "Are you flirting with me?" she blurts suddenly, lips curling up at the edges as she fights back a giggle.

He cocks a brow at her, seeming to relax, given the circumstances. Lucy watches in fascination as his lips pull up at the corners, revealing impossibly bright teeth and a positively wicked grin. He relaxes against the counter and Lucy can't help but notice the way his stomach muscles flex. "Should I not be?" he asks huskily, sending her the most alluring look she has ever seen.

Holy shit.

She swallows thickly, mouth suddenly dry. "I broke into your house and fell asleep in your bathtub," she reminds him in a voice slightly higher than normal. Hopefully he doesn't notice though. "You should probably call the cops." At least, that's what she'd do. Among other things.

"I am a cop," is his reply. He shrugs half-heartedly, as if it's no big deal that she just broke into her sexy neighbor cop's apartment. Just wait until Cana hears about this.

She blinks back in surprise. "Oh," Lucy says awkwardly, wincing slightly, "well, fuck me."

He shrugs, peering at her with dark, intense eyes. "Only if you ask nicely," he tells her lowly, something guttural in his voice. Lucy's eyebrows shoot to her hairline, a flush immediately working its way up her neck as a shiver runs down her spine. His eyes widen as well, a look of pure shock overtaking his expression as the color drains from his face.

"I probably shouldn't have said that," he adds after a moment of stunned silence.

Lucy nods, her mouth completely dry, suddenly unable to look away from him, even as his gaze drops to the floor in embarrassment. Well that escalated quickly.

It takes several seconds for Lucy to regain her bearings, her brain having shorted out momentarily. She clears her throat loudly, gaining his attention. Her head cocks to the side, bare leg bobbing from where its resting against the lip of the tub. His gaze darts to her bare skin for a split-second before peeling away to meet her eyes. "Out of curiosity," Lucy asks slowly, peering back at his through her eyelashes and sending him a wicked grin as her lips pull back from her teeth, "what happens if I _don't_ ask nicely?"

His eyes widen just a fraction, obviously not expecting that to come out of her mouth. His arms come uncrossed, instead falling against the counter behind him, fingers curling around the edge so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He simply stares for a moment, then pushes off the counter.

That's when the door is thrown open, starling the two of them as it slams against the wall, bouncing slightly. "Hey, Natsu," a guy with dark, messy hair barrels into the room with no warning, half-naked and squinting as he holds up a pair of sparkly, red pumps, "do you know where these…" he trails off suddenly, taking notice of Lucy lying in the bathtub.

"Hey," Lucy greets, smiling awkwardly as he stares at her. At least she found her shoes. "I'm Lucy." She manages to balance on one elbow for long enough to send him a small wave, which he slowly returns.

"Hi?" the new guy replies slowly, glancing between Lucy and Natsu, apparently. Hey, it's about time she learned his name! That might have been a good thing to learn before whatever was about to just happen happened. Not to say that something was about to happen, but, you know. Though, maybe she should have been the one to introduce herself first, considering she _broke into his house_.

Is there some sort of etiquette when it comes to breaking and entering, or is it a no rules kind of thing?

"I broke in through the window and fell asleep in your bathtub last night," she tells him pointblank, shrugging slightly as he sends her the oddest look she has ever seen.

He nods slowly, then turns to Natsu, who's just been staring between the two of them since his roommate threw open the door unexpectedly. What the fuck, doesn't this guy know how to knock? "Is this some kind of weird role play you're into?" he asks Natsu, who immediately chokes on his spit. "Like, I'm not judging if you're into the whole cops and robbers thing," he adds, "but could you at least wait until I leave before getting kinky in the bathroom?"

Natsu growls at his friend and reaches behind himself blindly, fingers curling around the mouthwash bottle from before and launching it at the other man. The bottle misses as the man ducks, and Lucy watches as it skids across the carpet before snapping back to the situation at hand.

Honestly, at this point she can't even be embarrassed about the kinky sex comment. It's just been a weird morning.

"Gray," Natsu hisses, "get the fuck out of here!" He steps towards the door, shoving at his friend's shoulder, but Gray ignores him, staring at Lucy as he dodges Natsu's attempts to throw him out of the bathroom.

"Do you like it more when he's the good cop or the bad cop?" Gray manages to ask curiously as he's shoved towards the door.

Lucy points at him. "I'll get back to you on that one," she promises just before the door is slammed shut. Natsu spins back around, sending her an exasperated look as if to say "really?" Lucy sends him a pointed look, shrugging as best she can. "Well, I don't think I've seen the bad cop yet," she says simply.

* * *

 **AN: Should I continue in a series of shorts? Should this be a stand alone? Should Natsu and Lucy have kinky bathtub sex? Who knows! Shoot me a comment and tell me what you think!**


End file.
